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Wow! I had this entire posting finished and ready to post,
when I decided to click on the photo and see if I could rotate them.
When I clicked that off I clicked myself right out of the domain, now back again.

If you look to see what I describe, they still work.

I saw a pale pink light behind a cloud, that you can't see in the first photo.
I've got my little Canon camera on automatic, and it's getting dark.
A pale pink and pale blue shape started sticking out from behind the cloud,
and it kept moving out, with another shape, until they were out in the sky by themselves.
In all my years of bike-hiking along this shore, I never saw that before.

Did a higher stop on the Nuclear Organ for World Peace move these clouds?
If you look at my previous painting, you can see this view was the beginning,
before I gave up and it became the rainy night I was feeling.

These were taken at the far end of Waverly Beach, going towards Crystal Beach.
If you need American directions, it's across the river, maybe two miles north of Buffalo.
Please look left to right in descending order.

If you want to watch that cloud in the upper right hand corner,
and see what shape it takes, and want to describe it, please, go ahead.

If you look above the main cloud, you can see what looks like a fish tail on the right,
with a head and open mouth on the left, rising a little above the cloud.
This is Lake Erie, but it might be worth getting... uh... a crick in your neck.
If you see other fish shapes, so do I, and they all looked better to my eye.

It's not a nuclear thing, it's a forum thing, how these photos ended up sideways.

You might not think of me as being vague, or being too slow or not showing up,
but sometimes my world can be like living in a dream, or being all fogged up.
Here's four photos to illustrate that, the first one showing a stop along the way.
The bridge at Port Robinson was half-way up when it was knocked over by a laker,
and it never was rebuilt. That's why this sign made by locals talks about the ferry.
Here's two more photos to show other pale pink and blue worlds I traveled through.
The last two photos show the low, rolling cloud that follows the shoreline,
an almost constant phenomena at this end of Lake Erie.

The nuclear electricity that powers this organ dominated domain,
is truly wasted, if you don't log in to see these photos enlarge before your eyes.
C'mon, log in. It's better to be a member.
I can't say turn it up loud, but I can type click it up big.

The vowels of the earth have opened up around me,
someone must be hitting the highs and lows on the Nuclear Organ for World Peace.
And just when it seems to be harmonizing with my life, coming from Denmark,
a face rises up from the radiated mud, pulling the unreal estate out from under my feet.

The new World Happiness Report again ranks Denmark among the top three happiest of 155 countries surveyed—a distinction that the country has earned for seven consecutive years.
The US, on the other hand, ranked 18th in this year’s World Happiness Report, a four-spot drop from last year’s report.
Denmark’s place among the world’s happiest countries is consistent with many other national surveys of happiness (or, as psychologists call it, “subjective well-being”).
Scientists like to study and argue about how to measure things. But when it comes to happiness, a general consensus seems to have emerged.
Depending on the scope and purpose of the research, happiness is often measured using objective indicators (data on crime, income, civic engagement, and health) and subjective methods, such as asking people how frequently they experience positive and negative emotions.
Why might Danes evaluate their lives more positively? As a psychologist and native of Denmark, I’ve looked into this question.
Yes, Danes have a stable government, low levels of public corruption, and access to high-quality education and health care. The country does have the highest taxes in the world, but the vast majority of Danes happily pay: They believe higher taxes can create a better society.
Perhaps most importantly, however, they value a cultural construct called “hygge” (pronounced hʊɡə).
The Oxford dictionary added the word in June 2017, and it refers to high-quality social interactions. Hygge can be used as a noun, adjective or verb (to hygge oneself), and events and places can also be hyggelige (hygge-like).
Hygge is sometimes translated as “cozy,” but a better definition of hygge is “intentional intimacy,” which can happen when you have safe, balanced, and harmonious shared experiences. A cup of coffee with a friend in front of a fireplace might qualify, as could a summer picnic in the park.
A family might have a hygge evening that entails board games and treats, or friends might get together for a casual dinner with dimmed lighting, good food and easygoing fun. Spaces can also be described as hyggelige (“Your new house is so hyggeligt”) and a common way of telling a host thank you after a dinner is to say that it was hyggeligt (meaning, we had a good time). Most Danish social events are expected to be hyggelige, so it would be a harsh critique to say that a party or dinner wasn’t hyggelige.
Research on hygge has found that in Denmark, it’s integral to people’s sense of well-being. It acts as a buffer against stress, while also creating a space to build camaraderie. In a highly individualized country like Denmark, hygge can promote egalitarianism and strengthen trust.
It would be fair to say that hygge is fully integrated into the Danish cultural psyche and culture. But it has also become a bit of a global phenomenon—Amazon now sells more than 900 books on hygge, and Instagram has over three million posts with the hashtag #hygge. Google trends data show a big jump in searches for hygge beginning in October 2016.
Nor is Denmark the only country that has a word for a concept similar to hygge—the Norwegians have koselig, the Swedes mysig, the Dutch gezenlligheid, and the Germans gemütlichkeit.
In the US—which also places a high value on individualism—there’s no real cultural equivalent of hygge. Income is generally associated with happiness; yet even though the country’s GDP has been rising and its unemployment rates have been declining, levels of happiness in the US have been steadily decreasing.
What’s going on?
Income inequality continues to be an issue. But there’s also been a marked decrease in interpersonal trust and trust toward institutions like the government as well as the media In the end, more disposable income doesn’t hold a candle to having someone to rely on in a time of need (something that 95% of Danes believe they have).
At its core, hygge is about building intimacy and trust with others.Americans could probably use a little more of it in their lives.

The first thing I thought when I saw this real estate game?
It's not half as complicated as Monopoly.
President Donald Trump now has the biggest monopoly going.

yeah... what's with the continuing presence of Denmark here in my apartment in the Niagara Peninsula?
I just sent a message to George Furnaletto, who made my custom-ordered Stratocaster neck replicas in 1977.
I looked at his domain and saw his newest distributor, "Bass Buddha" in Denmark, and yes, another one in Texas.
If you wait, the graphics change to show this information.
How come American radio doesn't have hits with lyrics about having a tex-ass?
All my xxx's have a tex-ass.

The constant conflagration of radiation, radiated food from California, and now hot sun rays,
has been taking a toll, making me pay more to see new things, eat more food, and just be outside.
I don't like, as an Ontario citizen, to have to subsidize the Nuclear Organ for World Peace, but I am.
In so many ways. If I don't, I don't get to play around.
Look what's happening in my musical life. Criminal interference keeps me from progressing,
progressing with my semi-solid-bodies, the first made playable in 1995, before I took it apart to refinish it.
Being made homeless stopped me, and being poisoned in my new residence is bringing me down.
How has all this negative radiation mutated my life? These photos are proof.

Look at this Fender Stratocaster copy, with the name "Vagabond" on the headstock.
Even though I took it completely apart to rebuild it, woodworking, aluminum pick-guard shielding,
making a new pick-guard, installing DiMarzio pickups and Switchcraft hardware,
carving out a left-handed location for the guitar cord input... no other identification is visible.
I don't know where this guitar was made, where it came from, and the seller was asking $90.
This is a full-scale Strat copy, feeling and looking identical to me, so I gave him $100.
You can see how affected I am.
I'm calling it my cherry Strat, the translucent red letting some wood-grain show through,
and the translucent green plastic, illuminated sign plastic, is a nice leaf colour.
When I made the maple leaf to cover the previous, right-handed cord input location,
it looked like a leaf made out of the pick-guard plastic.
When I shaped it, where I made the edges thinner it looked like jade.
When I put some of the nail polish I used to touch up the carving around the cord input on it,
I started to think it looked like a sugar maple leaf, so I went with that.
Yes, I took this guitar to the local big box Rexall drug store,
so a beauty consultant could help me pick out a nail polish that would blend in.
oh... this is so third millennium...

And then this, a pink plastic guitar was given to me.
Look at it, laying on top of my first semi-solid-body.
It's six strings, like classic rock guitars, but it's smaller, almost like a ukulele.
The heart fret markers are stickers that will be easy to take off,
and I can use sign chemicals to remove the body art.
If I use red sign vinyl to make a pick-guard and cherry fret markers,
this could be my cherry blossom guitar.
I could be strumming a pink breeze underneath some cherry trees.

A cherry Strat and a cherry blossom guitar... what's this world coming to?
And look at this portable Boss amplifier, as wonderful as it is.
Was I really excited about buying a 7-watt amplifier, even if I think it has to be more than seven watts?
I still am.
I'm strapping on this cherry Strat with my 1970 Straplocks from my 1964 Fender Stratocaster,
on my left side, and strapping on this Boss amp on my right side,
not only for my new strolling troubadour gig across from City Hall,
but to wander all over the Niagara Peninsula, riffing away and jamming out local words to hit songs.
I can even play this guitar in the mist at Niagara Falls, and in the new, torrential side-ways water-storm.
And I'm going to be a responsible professional musician,
leaving the string tuning peg protectors on so I don't draw blood poking some careless honeymoon couple.
I might be singing a more heavy version of "Careless Whispers", but I'll keep my body fluid to myself.
I'll be wet enough already, just being there.

a cherry Strat and a cherry blossom guitar,
with a new music career that sees me getting Bossed around.

Please be forewarned!
A first look into a pink sound-hole may interfere with any future genuine acoustic appreciations.
Let me remind you. Wars are being fought over the oil to make this plastic.
Is this Boss amp emanating something else besides incredible sound?
Why am I now thinking it's a crab-apple blossom guitar?

I must have been hungry, wondering what Solid Potato Salad was,
when I decided to watch this You Tube video.
This segment from a movie challenges my idea of what entertainment is,
and the difference between talent and arduous physical labour.
About five minutes long.

Just like debris from the Japanese nuclear meltdown and tsunami is still washing ashore,
over here along the west coasts of Canada and the United States,
offshore production keeps coasting along, washing away onshore manufacture and pricing.

Here's a link to a new Toronto, Ontario, music store, doing business mostly online.
I'm using a left-handed, do-it-yourself Stratocaster style guitar kit as an example,
because the left-handed price is not only the same as right-handed prices,
it's like buying an offshore guitar that hasn't been assembled or finished.
When Fender is asking hundreds, if not thousands, for vintage style left-handed tremolos,
I can buy this entire kit for the tremolo unit and use it for my second semi-solid-body.

They have left-handed Les Pauls, Stratocasters, Telecasters, 335's and an f-hole acoustic electric.
When old school manufacturers are pricing like rock star rock god legends,
single coil pickups for $150, they feature Trev Wilkinson who sells his name brand for $10.
I saw his product and looked at his British site. He also prices lefty parts at right-handed prices.
I'm used to being myself in person, doing everything from business to non-business that way,
so it's with regret I say it's too far to visit their showroom.
It's going to be very difficult for me to mail-order a guitar.

Oh yeah... this must be the new millennium, mutating my attitude about technology,
and the self-imposed restrictions I have had for my entire life.
I never had a credit card and don't want a cell phone,
but using an offshore right-handed Strat-style guitar with a new portable BOSS amplifier,
I just made two You Tube videos, the first with me playing electric guitar.
This is the second one, playing lead, looking better than the first.
Yes, the first was so unprofessional, and bad, it could only get better.
I just started playing guitar again, and my weakest ability is hammer-ons and offs.
I always like it when a violinist holds his bow up in the air to play with one hand.
Four minutes long.

The global confluence of our new economy meets anonymous conformity.
I'm using a new BOSS Katana portable amplifier, seven watts,
with an offshore Stratocaster copy that doesn't show the country of origin.

I'm starting off with some Mr. George Benson and then using a Crybaby like Jimi Hendrix.
You'll have to decide if I survived the sixties, got perma-stoned or am just getting sticky with it.
If this amp had tubes it would have smelled like it.
8:39

It looks like the American Nuclear Organ for World Peace hasn't mutated all life on earth,
especially if a new species is found that is said to represent a new branch on our tree of life.
oh... I don't like using "tree of life", but that's what they said here.
And it's a Canadian hiking discovery... yeah!

I don't know how long this link is going to last,
but I thought showing this with the photos is the best way to see it.

And a big Canadian hey!, because if there's a kind of life that wasn't know to exist,
that means I've still got another chance as a musician in an original band.
no... no... please don't think that legal marijuana in Ontario means I'm part of the new stoner-age.
...and ...and... if you don't dance with your wife I will, or the drummer will for sure, probably backstage.
I'm tazed and confused, put down by police, flat out on the sidwalk, feeling that static release...

It must be the free release electrons from this AC/DC powered screen that are affecting my brain,
because I'm confusing my own thread about an organ with an organist who might be a better pianist.
I could see myself out on a winter bike-hike here in the Niagara Peninsula.
Little tinkles like looking at small rows of icicles and waving your hand to snap them off,
pushing hard on the pedals to get up a hill, walking on pond ice and hearing it crackle under my feet,
using my hands and feet to climb up a frozen waterfall, only to hear it start to break and fall beside me,
having your eyes dazzled by the sun on Niagara Falls waves, or from the tops of snowdrifts...
yes... it must be the sound of the piano giving me wintry moments,
when I listen to Frederik Magle playing an organ most of the time.
This is a beautiful and ominous performance, like a bike-hike, any way the keys goes.

You can see the overheated water supply system of the Nuclear Organ for World Peace overheating,
steaming all over these musicians and the stage. It's not happy, being replaced by a gang of rock star lead guitarists.
This performance is a mutation, that's for sure.
When first generation radiation from the Nuclear Organ passed through the earth containing the grave of Jimi Hendrix,
Jimis' concept of a rock orchestra, saying 16 or 18 pieces, must have been caught up in the ethereal mist,
and passed into the consciousness of all these other lead guitarists who had visited his Seattle tribute park.
It's too bad that Back to Bach was also playing in the neighbourhood, resulting in a trans-mutational blend.

There was a rumour that Frederik Magle was seen backstage during this performance,
seen to be playing a left-handed guitar upside-down, with the bass strings on the bottom and the highs on top.
His success at playing faster solos with opposing thumb technique for the high strings,
and his ability to bend notes in a way that's impossible for ordinary right-handers,
bent so many brains that most of these guitarists reverted back to their head-banging origins,
creating the kind of bent locker damage that now only American sports athletes are known for, over here.

Frederik, Frederik. If only you had started out with the heart of a rock star lead guitarist,
your appearance here would have been so different.
Instead of trying to innovate in a serious new classical way, being meditative by yourself backstage,
you would have walked to the front of the stage and shattered your guitar on the floor,
where you could have picked up long splinters from the neck and use them to conduct this orchestra.
You could have jabbed and stabbed the bassist to motivate him, as so many lead guitarists do,
or you could have grabbed a long guitar cord and used it to lash some of these lead guitarists,
something you saw them doing to each other back in their hotel rooms before the show,
getting into it with them in front of the audience. Everyone would be saying you were a big hit,
and credit you with starting the first classical music mosh pit. Next time, jump in!
Can I suggest a title for your next piece that was inspired by this performance?
Fandom of the Popera. You got it, you gotta give it.
I hafta warn you, if you begin to get into rock star lead guitar.
After that comes New Wave music with the big hair,
and I can't imagine you standing there with one hand holding down a key on one synthesizer,
with your other hand reaching for a key on another synthesizer on your other side,
dancing away more than playing. I might be wrong. You'd look good in a pink Mozart wig.

Last edited by John Watt; Dec-09-2018 at 10:37.
Reason: missed the embed, nothing new

oh... oh... my brain is in troubled waters, maybe radiated nuclear organ waste waters... wasted waters... deep watter...
yes... the Gaelic spelling of water is watter, watt meaning wet... that's as deep as I can get... awe-full... just awe-full..
Watching YouTube all the time after the building owner told me I could and not cost him another penny,
has been bending my global mind... ancient stone carvings... everything different that I could find...
but never, never, have I heard anything that took my musical mind up into a new head space...
hearing riffs I can't erase... from an instrument I can't even place... and what's, watt's this all about?
The Thrill is Gone by B.B.King. I've been jamming out and riffing off that song for almost fifty years.
It's the only classic blues song, okay... the only blues song I would want to include in a song list.
I don't play it like B.B. or Jimi, just playing it... but I make up verses for today when I'm singing it,
the pills are gone, the bills aren't paid... everything about thinking about life on earth doesn't thrill me today.

Hearing this new version tore my blues heart out... listening to it three times in a row before I'm here now.
I know I'll listen to it again.
I'm hearing some blues harp I never heard before, and it's something I'll never be able to do with my fingers on my guitar.
This is coming to us from the other side of the world, not the sound-hole you can dig straight through to China,
being a Gayageum version, and I don't even know what or where that is, but I can feel it, where it's coming from.

From a Jimi Hendrix production point of view, her use of electronic echo, probably with some reverb, is beautiful.
The echo is strong enough to be half-way between her... her... finger-picking volume and silence, the best place to be.
I have doubts about saying finger-picking, because she's using her fingers and I don't see any finger-picks,
but her attack, her depth of feeling, makes it hard for me to see her as just using her fingertips.
I'm hearing riffs I want to play, not hearing searing blues guitar, not hearing classical riffs done by an electric guitar,
but extra notes coming from the tradition of music and the instrument she's playing... beautiful, truly beautiful.
Am I thinking turn it up, play it loud, be at a gig where she's sitting in the corner of a restaurant while customers eat...
no... her playing found it's way deep into my heart... past my blues and decades of use of The Thrill is Gone...
making me a fan number one.

Megathons, megaliths, now I want to create some megariffs, and I want to hear this girl sing.